Disaster
by Bubbly-gurl24
Summary: He would pay anything to get what he wanted. He was coming for her.
1. Chapter 1

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_song: lovely by billy eilish ft. khalid_

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Cathy's vocal cords wavered as her screams joined the crowds' roaring sound. Her auburn curls that were dusted with purples and blues swayed when she gracefully danced with the vibrating bass. The crowd surged her back and forward. She could feel the alcohol flow through her veins that hypnotised her let go just that little bit more. She let out another shout as the beat quicken and she rolled her body that little bit faster. A petite arm settled over her shoulders and Cathy glanced at her best friend, Rachel, who had her blue eyes closed and was grinning widely as they grooved with the crazy mosh.

Beads of sweat trickled down Cathy's back that allowed her white floral shirt to turn transparent and stick in certain places. Quickly, brushing a bead of sweat off her forehead, she leaned towards the dark hair man in front of her and roughly tapped his shoulder. He slowly turned them and gave them a quizzical look. Cathy gave him a flirtatious wink and smile before she gestured towards Rachel and herself, then pointed up. He gave a flirty wink back before grabbing his drunk friend next to him.

Cathy and Rachel were boosted up onto the guys' shoulders and were given a clear view of the moving mosh pit. Cathy's dark eyes focused on the DJ booth on the centre stage, The Double-Trouble Twins, and threw her arms high in the air as their song transitioned to the next deadly beat. She called out with the crowd and danced on as the dusk light grew darker.

In the evening light, Cathy and Rachel stood in a never-ending line that lead to a drink stall.

"This is taking forever…" complained Rachel, as she stood on her tip toes to see over the queue line. "Let's just head to the pub near our hotel. Cheaper drinks, shorter queues."

"Yes, but less cute guys," replied Cathy. She was scoping the crowd for boys that could warm her bed for the night.

"Really? I thought we agreed that it was a girl's weekend away," said Rachel. "I thought we were going to focus on us, girls and forget about stupid boys, you know. Especially your clingy ex."

Cathy stopped listening because she saw a stillness in the crowd and zoned in on a tall man staring her way. He leaned casually against a rusty burger stall and appeared radiant in comparison to the sweaty crowd. She let a smirk grace her lips before she let her tongue lick them slowly.

"Sometimes, to get over someone, you need to get under them. Save our spot; grab me a beer girl!" said Cathy, before she turned on her golden sandals and sauntered towards the lonesome man. His eyes remained on her as she walked closer. As he leant off the food stall, he stood tall and powerful among the drunken mass bearing a black hoodie, dark trousers and trainer shoes. He adjusted his hoodie sleeves, but left his hood up covering most of his hair. But she could see wisps of blonde locks that had escape throughout the evening. Cathy looked back towards his sharp eyes and was surprised to find that they were startling silver. Her heart thudded in her chest when she was finally in close proximity to him.

"So, lost your friends or you always this lonely?" she said flirtatiously with a subtle smile.

He eyed her quite blankly and her heart stuttered a little that he might possible reject her. However, a smirk graced those oh-so-wonderous lips.

"A little bit of both. What about you? Do you always ditch your friends, or do you like to be alone with a terribly, lonely man like me?" he said with a devilish tone and stepped closer to her. His fingers lightly moving down her arms. Goosebumps prickled her skin and her breath caught in her throat.

"Sometimes, I do. Depends on the guy though…" she replied, thoughtfully. "Depends on if he's worth it or not. But on your last point, I don't think we're alone right now." She turned slowly and gestured around them, before turning back to his bad-boy smirk. "We could be alone though. I have a room that will allow us hours of time together."

She held her breath in her throat as he leaned toward her and roughly brushed her ear with his lips, "I'd make it worth your time so, lead the way dear." She smiled in satisfaction and kissed him briefly on the cheek.

As quick as she could, she ran back to Rachel, who was still waiting in the beer queue and updated her on the change of the evening plans.

"You're leaving me for that….." Rachel's face of annoyance turned into shock when she took in the handsome man. "…for… for that hunk of a man. Girl, go! I will see you tomorrow morning with all the goss."

Cathy winked at Rachel before hurrying back the mysterious dark-clothed man. When she reached him, she grabbed his hand and directed him towards the exit of the music festival.

"How close is your hotel?" he said melodically. She was suddenly knocked into by passing partygoers, which made her fall back into him. This action had managed to knock back his hood and it fell revealing silky long blonde locks.

"Not too far," she replied, while absently distracted by his revealed hair. She thought it completed him, if anything. His stance seemed to grow and obtain a more powerful vibe. It made her want to ravish him even more.

As they approached the room door, her small hand tapped her cleavage for her small room key card, because, of course, where else would a woman hid a room key card and lift her assets at the same time. Well, that's where she remembered she put it. Maybe, she had too much alcohol.

"I know I put it on me somewhere," she said, as she moved her hand around to check her back pockets. Suddenly, a warm hand touched her chest and lightly traced a path down her chest. She looked into those sharp silver eyes and was entranced. Slowly yet teasingly, the hand moved under her top and found the room key card. His fingers brushed her stiff peaks as he pulled the card out and held it up to her.

"Thanks…." She whispered, drawling out the 's'.

"Draco," he added in, while bringing his hand up to her face, tilting her lips towards his.

"Draco…" she breathed out, then closing the gap between them to enter in a searing kiss. Mouths moved through passionate motions. Draco gruffly pushed her against the hotel room door and she distantly heard the beep of entry from her key card.

Stumbling through the doorway, she began tugging his black hoodie up and over his head to reveal a black t-shirt. His hands moved smoothly down her body and yanked her close as their tongue met. She battled against his warm tongue with sensual swipes. Falling back onto the fluffy bed, her legs wrapped around his hips and began grinding into his core. Zips of pleasure pulsed to her lower stomach. Moans escaped her mouth when his mouth began to work down the side of her neck towards her collarbone.

Her dainty fingers traced along the edge of his dark pants before making a climbing path to his chest. She scrapped her nails lightly down his chest, then grabbed the hemline of his shirt and soon, his shirt joined his hoodie on the floor. She glanced at his defined chest and saw black tattoo-like lines warping over his shoulder to his back.

Curiously, she raised her point finger to trace the dark lines that started from his left forearm to the shoulder when suddenly he gripped her hand and pinned it above her head.

"I wanna see you," as he said this, his eyes seemed to spark dangerously. With his spare hand, he rapidly tore her white floral shirt off. Soon, followed by her light pink lacey brassiere. A gasp escaped her lips when he started teasing her nipples with his harsh mouth and hand. She arched into his touch and enthusiastically rocked into his core, hunting for that sweet release.

She heard a groan come from his throat, sending shots of pleasure deeper into her core.

"You look so beautiful," he murmured, before pinning both of her hands above her head. "So much like her…"

Cathy wasn't sure on what she heard, but that quiet whisper almost stopped her movements of passion. Draco's spare hand unbuttoned her shorts and pulled them down her legs, accompanied by knickers. She laid bare to him and watched his silver eyes dance up and down her body. He unpinned her hands from above her head as he reached for her face. He placed a searing kiss on her lips and began to fiercely kiss down her body towards the curls that covered her wet core. However, he stilled at her stomach and placed delicate kisses there. She fisted her hands into his hair and gently pushed his head to continue its journey, but he remained where he was.

"They say that the higher prize you want, the higher the cost will be," he gravelled out whilst dragging his wet lips across her skin. "I'm willing to pay with everything to get what I want. Would you?"

At that moment, he looked at her with wide open eyes and she frantically nodded, just to shut him up. Like what the hell was this idiot on about anyway? Maybe she should make this quick and find Rachel again.

"Who wouldn't want to get want their dream of?" she replied and tried to subtly push his head again. Though, he still didn't move, but relief flooded his face. He slowly kissed her stomach again and got closer. She arched her aching core towards his lips and tried not to huff in annoyance when he spoke again.

"My family doesn't understand this need that I have, and I want to keep with traditions. The book said, more blood will help with transition." He was breathing right over her core now. Lips ghosting that bundle of nerves. "So, more blood I will pay with."

Cathy was just about to shove this Draco away and tell him to fuck off when he, finally, moved his hot mouth to burrow in between her thighs. His tongue made quick concise movements that sent her arching off the bed. Fingers grasping the soft sheets and she felt herself approaching that edge of ecstasy. She reached out her hand to grasp his silky blonde locks, but he remained out of distance.

Her whole body began to spasm. She could feel her walls pulsing erratically as she was thrown into the depths of her orgasm.

That's when she felt the cool steel sink down into her lower abdomen. She tried to move away from the unexpected pain, but Draco held her down with one strong arm over her waist. She felt her heart speed up with horror and adrenaline. Pain and pleasure swept through her lower body.

She felt her arms grow heavy and her once sturdy legs fell from around his hips. Her body fought to the spasms of ecstasy still jumping through her veins. Draco's tongue worked heavily against her clit that caused her walls to continue their flutter and pulses. A coldness began to sweep over her body from the knife that stuck out of her body. Her dark eyes locked onto the dagger that began to glow with a dark flame. She willed her hand to reach up and pulled it out. But she sunk deeper into the waves of pleasure and pain.

The room began to dim in her vision. The flames on the dagger grew higher and then all she could see, and feel was blackness.

Draco heard the girl garble out her last breath and then, became completely still. He pulled his damp mouth away from her heated core and lifted his arm off the dead girl's body to wipe his mouth somewhat clean. He carelessly pulled out the platinum knife with a wet noise. He checked over the dagger that was carefully carved with the Malfoy crest in the wooden handle. He slid off the hotel standard bed and didn't both to look back to watch the limps of the lifeless body drop on the bed.

He drew a cotton cloth from the back pocket of his trousers and wiped the blade clean. He picked up his clothes off the floor and roughly pulled his shirt back on. Carefully, he wrapped the hoodie around the magical blade as his quicksilver eyes did a finally sweep of the hotel room, before exiting the room and made his way out of the hotel.

"Eighteen down. Two to go and then, I'm coming for you Granger," he muttered as he stepped off the street curb and walked back towards the bass-filled music concert.

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	2. Chapter 2

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_song: california rain by betty who_

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_3 Weeks Later_

A bold headline stood out the folded Daily Prophet sitting on the fine oak table. Hermione's fingers trembled slightly as her golden orbs flickered across the page. Her throat constricted as she laid it flat on her table.

**'TWO MORE MUGGLES FOUND DEAD BEARING SAME MARK'**

_'Muggle officers called this a potential case closed, but the Ministry of Magic Auror's are concerned that a magical influence has been at play. Over the last month, dead muggle girls have been found in different places and all bear the same stab wound on their bodies. The stab wound for most victims occurred on their lower stomach and after their death, black lines expanded across their bodies to their now lifeless hearts. Is this an act of a Death Eater? Is there a new power at play? Auror Potter answers these questions on page five of the Daily Prophet.'_

Swallowing heavily, she leant back into the chair, unshed tears clouded up her vision. She couldn't believe it. He had done it again. Turning her head to her cork board display, she glanced at the aging newspaper articles that contained similar headlines.

**'MUGGLE FOUND DEAD WITH STRANGE MARK'**

**'TWO FEMALE MUGGLES LEFT IN ALLEYWAY'**

**'MASS MURDER AT AN UNIVERSITY PARTY IN NEWCASTLE'**

**'DEATH TRAIL ACROSS EUROPE. WHOSE TO BLAME?'**

She closed her eyes as her stomach turned uncomfortably. Who was to blame? She was. The same question echoed in her head from the first death and the heavy guilt weighed upon her weary thoughts. Her mind flickered to the day it began.

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_5 years ago_

_She was rushing past a thicket of trees as another bright blast came from the campsite. A scream wanted to release its itself from her throat, however she shoved that urge down. Her wandering thoughts rung with Malfoy's warning about her knickers when a sudden red light flashed past her ear. A silver masked death eater began chasing her. _

_Her pounding heart surged her onwards as she ran faster. She could see no signs of Harry or Ron nearby. Coils of rope wrapped around her ankles and she landed heavily on the ground. A rough hand grabbed her on the shoulder and rolled her over to her back. A heavy body straddled her hips as blind panic overtook her body. She lashed out with her nails; clawing any surface she could contact. The male figure grunted with annoyance before back-handing her across the cheek. Stars clouded her vision. _

_In that moment, she didn't notice the vivid spell knocking her attacker off her. She nursed her face and tried to round herself into a ball when a soft hand touched her non-injured cheek. The gentle hand turned her face towards her rescuer. Silver calm eyes looked into hers. _

_"No one hurts you," he simply said. _

_Draco Malfoy was crouched next to her, while blinding lights and echoes of explosions continued from the now distant camp. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his hawthorn wand. She swallowed nervously, unsure of his intent, she remained quiet. With one stroke, he had severed the binds coiling around her feet. The soft hand cupped her chin to hold it steady as he gently touched his forehead to hers._

_"No one," he repeated; his eyes locked onto hers. She shivered against the cool grass that was seeping into her clothes. "Run east for 30 paces and you'll find your friends."_

_He stood tall and walked away from her. A calm eye in the middle of the disastrous storm. For a moment, she laid frozen on the ground, before her brain kicked into motion and followed his advice._

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_1 and half years ago_

_"No! Take me instead!"_

_"You'll be next, Blood Traitor." _

_Fenir Greyback released the hold he had on her and slammed his fist into Ron's face. She heard a wet thud come into contact with Ron. But she didn't dare check if he was okay; her eyes were pleading to a grey-eyed boy to help. His face remained passive and eyes, watchful. _

_Heavy scuffles sounded when Greyback dragged Ron and Harry out of the room, out of earshot. Dark curls and unhinged eyes that belonged to Bellatrix Lestrange infiltrated her vision. She forced herself not to shake in fear. She was left alone in a den of wolves, with an unsure saviour. _

_ "Where did you get the sword, mudblood?" Bellatrix snarled, whilst tapping her crooked wand against her hip, mockingly._

_"We-we found it. It's a-a fake, just a copy-"_

_"Liar!" she hissed into Hermione's ear, baring her chipped teeth. "Telling us the truth will be so much easier, but it won't stop the torture. So let's just get started, shall we?_

_Hermione didn't even have time to brace for the first unforgivable curse. She fell to her knees. Her bones, blood, veins and everything felt like it was sizzling with fire. Her whole body spasmed and jolted at odd and unnatural angles. Blood filled her mouth as she clamped down on her tongue to stop any cries. _

_And then it stopped._

_"How did you break into my vault?" shrieked Bellatrix._

_"We didn't-"_

_"Crucio!"_

_The second round was much worse. It concentrated deeper and it left her writhing on the cold marble floor. Unable to control the cries, her scream ricocheted off the walls and she thought that it didn't sound like her at all. _

_And then it all stopped again._

_Her dazed eyes gazed around the room with no thought, until she found his silver ones. She opened her mouth with a surprise of pain and mouthed the words, "No one" to him. Her eyes fluttered close from the effort and she didn't see his hand clench around his wand._

_She felt herself being magically levitated into the air, before Bellatrix forced her body to hurtle back to the stone floor. To everyone's surprise, she landed on the hard floor and then bounced back into the air. She rose above the gigantic chandelier and hovered in a cocoon of blue crackling energy._

_She rotated slowly in the air and fluttered her golden orbs open to peer down at the aristocratic family below. For a moment, she thought she was dead. She searched for her still body, but it remained unseen. Movements from the noble family caught her attention. _

_A blond figure was moving their wand swiftly against a dark shape. Yells and chaos came through her shield in distortion. Suddenly, a large beam of light hit her globe and she began to fall rapidly to the marble floor. Her hands raised up to protect her head and to brace for impact. Then, her movements slowed near the ground and she, again, was hovering, but about a foot above the ground. _

_"Are you really going to be worth all this trouble?" A voice grazed her ear. "Granger, we are going to have to talk about the cost of these actions you have done. My mind was not made up. You had to screw up everything up by being caught. Everything has changed now."_

_Warm hands turned her over in the air. Malfoy was unexpectedly carrying her in his arms. Her head throbbed with pain as he went to speak again. His face turned from hers in confusion and bolts of spells fired in the parlour. She felt herself being ripped from his arms. A magical pull started at her navel and soon, she had appeared on a quiet beach._

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_1 year ago  
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_Smoke cloaked her vision and a thunder of rumble fell. Shots of spells swished out of wands. Hermione could only see the flicks of light through the smog. Another groan came from the ancient wall leaving her no choice to run into the thick of the madness. True to battle form, she dodged and rolled through the enemies until she flush against an alcove._

_She was grabbed from behind and pulled flushed against a male body. The smells of cedar and apple floated around her in the battle dust as her blind panic gave her instinct to bite down on the hand against her mouth. _

_"Do you have a death wish?" Malfoy asked softy. His hot breath coated her ear with that distinctive drawl that crawled over her senses. Another loud boomed echoed in the Hogwarts halls when he removed his hand from her mouth and held her hip to turn her steadily. "I've waited so long to speak to you, Granger, ever since you rudely left the Manor."_

_"This isn't exactly the time or place," she quipped back. Her golden orbs focused on the masked Death enemies fighting nearby._

_"They won't bother us until I want them too," Malfoy drawled out, placing his wand hand on the wall next to her head; obstructing her sight to the battle. "Let's talk about us."_

_Storm clouded eyes met her fiery golden ones. Her heart shuddered and a sluggish affect went through her mind._

_"Us?" she murmured back; battle long forgotten. _

_"Yes… us, Granger," Tucking a strand bloodied hair behind her ear, Draco stared at her intently. "We are aligned in the stars."_

_She couldn't say anything. She couldn't think anything. _

_"I've spoken to my parents. I know just what to do to ensure our destiny together," he stated. "I've read the family book three times. I know what I need to do. I wanted you to know that will do anything to pay the cost. Our destiny will come to be and I will make sure."_

_At this point, he was alarmingly close to her, his body so close to hers, aligned from shoulders to toes. Her stomach flip flopped as his eyes and hair glowed in the lighting. An unexpected disturbing desire coursed within her to drag her fingers through that haloed perfect hair. Malfoy's mouth curved into a smirk when her fingers twitched as she forced them to remain at her sides._

_The hand leaning on the brick wall slid to the back of her neck and cupped her throat, while caressing over her pulse. Goosebumps prickled across her skin. His hand traced a soft path up her neck towards her lips and parted them softly, causing a velvety groan to surprisingly escape. His eyes turned into molten silver and focused on her lips. Without warning, he learned forward so that his lips were ghosting hers. _

_It felt more than a light brush of flesh; more than a mingle of shared breath and more intense than other kisses from previous boys. "Our lives are fated to intertwined," he whispered before he touched her lips. He kissed her lips several times lightly, as if to simply awaken them before his tongue darted out to taste her fine lips._

_Her whole world spun out of control, and she found herself sliding her hands around his back, pulling him closer to her own. She was inhaling his selective scent, mouth alive with his taste and nerves strung out with his touch. He pushed her heavily against the brick wall as his hand fisted into her curls, tilting her head the way he wanted. His tongue battled with hers; his mouth fierce and hot while hers was ample and firm. _

_Warm hands sliding down her spine to her behind, cupping it familiarly, like he owned her, like he touched her this way every day. She knew she should've been protesting to his touch, but at the same time, she really didn't want him to stop. His lips left hers, making her almost cry out in protest, until he bent his head to her sensitive neck. An echoing explosion reverbed through Malfoy's invisible shield, making her jump away from him. The continuing battle raged on; screams and cries came from both sides. She shook her head to re-focus and made a move to return to the Order of Phoenix. _

_He roughly grabbed her wrist, which made her halt and whispered harshly into her ear, "Just wait. I will pay the price, in blood, for our eternity." Her breathing was still irregular, and body hummed with aftershocks, when he let her go and she watched him disappear into the frantic skirmish. Without another thought, she dashed off to find her friends._

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Trying to swallow the heavy lump in her throat, she remained in her cushioned chair. She remembered each moment so clear. It made it so much harder to comprehend.

Draco Malfoy had said some terrible, awful and confusing things to her over the years. These moments were more proof that he had indeed lost his mind in all the madness. Yet here she was, collecting newspaper articles that she was adamant that reeked of his last words to her. Paying in blood indeed.

Stirring her sugar into her tea, she folded the newspaper back up and made a mental note to contact Harry about the new death he was investigating. She didn't want to be the type of person to run from fear, so with a quick chug of her tea, she gather her things and left for work.

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	3. Chapter 3

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_song for the chapter: church by aly & aj_

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She runs. She hides. She runs. She hides. He watches over and over.

Her fucking persistence to prove that it wasn't him. It wasn't him spilling this necessary blood for their future. But he knew, _oh he knew,_ that deep in her staccato heart that it was him.

He could only be so patient for so long. Each moment had to be right. Each possible deliverance had to be perfect.

He watched day in and day out for the last week as she twittered over her paper heavy work. Her movements weaving a spell over him. He could almost taste the salty sweetness that fell from her lips. An aching, maddening, craving.

He settled more heavily into the soft velvet of the armchair in his drawing room; smirking at the memory of sneaking into her office to set up the enchantment. It was simple. A mirror charm on the holy photo of her parents; he knew she would never shift it too far from sight. A precious gem that forsakenly saw her movements for at eight hours a day. But, of course, he also selfishly charmed the photo frame to filter through sound and to his greatest greediness, the imagery was filtered to a portable mirror that he carried with him.

_"Oh, hey Harry. Is that the time already?" A light of ultraviolet flashed around the panel. The small crinkles near her fiery eyes; the whitening of her straight teeth; curling pink lips that broke into a smile. The pure beauty that he had missed._

His hand froze in brushing back a stubborn lock.

_Look at the picture_, he thought blindly. _Look at the picture, look at the picture, look at the damn photo. Look at me, Granger!_

She didn't. His chest thudding loudly when she tidied up things and disappeared from the view, a murmuring conversation fading. His wrist relaxed; the small mirror dropping into his lap. He stared blankly ahead. He forced his throat to loosen and swallowing became difficult.

He couldn't take this much longer.

The dagger.

Bloodshot silver eyes danced over the Malfoy heirloom. Taunting him of his potential fate. He could do it, use it carelessly and achieving his addictive decision.

_NO._

He exhaled deeply and loudly. He had a plan. He knew Granger. If he was careless, she would run or get hurt being a fucking know-it-all-miss-I'm-always-right…He couldn't wait to get under her skin. Flashes of memories echoed in his mind; warm body, sweet honey scent, messy curls, golden eyes, freckles splattered, soft skin, surprising groans, doe-like eyes, quick mouth, curves under his hands.

His pale fingers dragged down his face. He shoved himself to his feet and went to check again if everything was ready.

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Her clock chimed loudly at seven pm, making her slightly jump in surprise. Her neck throbbed in protest as she rolled it back gently. She swayed her tired neck, side to side, feeling the tendons click and pop. The heavy weight on her shoulders burdened her down to the earth. She closed her eyes as she exhaled.

The lunch with Harry remained heavily on mind.

_"What do you think would be better, the grilled salmon or a beetroot quinoa salad?" She heard Harry stiffly an exasperating breath. She ignored his brash change of attitude, continued to search the dented lunch menu for something appealing._

_"Are we really doing this again?" She risked a glance at Harry's fixed stare, almost shifting to a defensive position under his green gaze. Quickly fixing her posture, she returned to look at the menu._

_"I don't know what you are talking," she replied, stiffly._

_"Really?" Harry drawled out. "You don't know what I'm talking? Maybe it's the fact that the only time I have lunch with you, it's after someone has been murdered." He had lifted the menu to cover half of his face. It was pinched with frustration._

_"Harry, I happen to –"she began._

_"Usually, when I'm the leading Auror as well," he continued._

_"No, it has –"Her voice sounding feeble._

_ "But let's not the fact that Malfoy is behind each and every single one of these murders," Harry dropped the menu, revealing a tired and anger face. "Malfoy, a man who has been trying to be a good humanitarian in the last six months since the last battle. Malfoy, who has donated a large amount of money to help Hogwarts get rebuilt. He also, if you don't remember, gave additional evidence to convict several of Voldemort's dedicated followers to receive the Dementor's kiss."_

_Hermione turned her head away from Harry's stare; her stubbornness digging its heels in the ground._

_"I didn't realise you were so chummy with him," she said indignantly._

_"I'm not saying, I'm friends with him," Harry stressed to her. "I just don't understand why you are so sure about him being the murderer. The ministry has been keeping track of him and he has been busy with setting up charities. Remember, he even saved Ron's life in the final battle against Greyback."_

_"Yes, let's use that card every time to deter my words," she hissed across the table. Harry sighed heavily. "Have you even seen him in the last few months?"_

_"I told you. He is being tracked by the ministry," replied Harry. She snorted loudly and crossed her arms._

_"Harry, you and I both know that someone like him is more than capable of misleading the tracking system of the Ministry of Magic," she replied. Uncrossing her arms, she reached forward and played with her fork. "You weren't there, Harry. He was muttering in the final battle, making claims of paying for things with price of blood and searching the Malfoy family book, for…. Merlin knows what…"_

_"What would Malfoy want anyway?"_

_She froze; her silver fork tilted to catch the unusual bright sunshine from the fresh November day. She blinked and pulled her hand back with a rapid movement, shoving under the table to hold her other hand. Shaking fingertips that were clenching and grasping each other; a cold fist strongly gripping something in her chest. _

_She hadn't expected Harry to ask that question. She wasn't prepared for this direction of conversation. Damn his Auror training and skills!_

_"Hermione…" Vibrant green eyes shadowing her jerky movements; his stare gleaming in familiarity and protectiveness. "What else did he say to you?"_

_Her breath came out shakily; she didn't know. She wanted to tell Harry desperately about everything, but more than anything, she wanted Harry to just believe her, with no additional evidence, other than her word. Nevertheless, this would've come up eventually; she shouldn't hold onto the truth for too much longer. _

_"He said…" She licked her lips in nervousness. "That we were fated and I forced his hand at the Malfoy Manor. __We were destined and then, he kissed me." Harry's eyes closed in slow motion and he sat back into the chair. Soon, he opened his bright eyes and focused on her._

_"I'll look into him and having someone check his history in the last six months," Hermione felt a sense of relief through her._

_"Thank you," she whispered across the table and took out her hand, holding it out for Harry. His warm calloused hand caught hers and held tightly._

_"You should've told me sooner," he implored at her. "If anything else happens, let me know…please. I couldn't bear knowing that if something happened to you because, I didn't listen to you."_

_She sniffed quietly as a chortled laughter escaped her throat._

_"Wouldn't be the first time," she said, cheekily. Harry smiled back at her as a waiter approached them._

_"Hey there, are we ready to order?" The waiter flicked out a notepad and pen._

_Hermione smiled at the attendant and replied, "I'll have the grilled salmon please."_

_Harry rolled his eyes behind the waiter's back and tried to stop a grin. _

Forcing dark lashes to part, she was blinded by the illuminating lights hanging from the ceiling. Rolling her neck back to centre, she was given a landscape view of her shadowed office. Like a deer caught in headlights, there was a sudden appearance of a wizard in her space. She jerked her neck back in a hurried movement, it cracked and popped with the jolted motions.

Malfoy.

Calm, casual, sitting in the adjacent chair across from her desk. Malfoy.

Dressed in dark clothes from head to toe. Fallen angel cardboard cut. Malfoy.

Blonde lock slick back with care. Hands folded in his lap. Malfoy.

Smirk gracing forbidden lips, eyes dancing with mirth. Malfoy.

What. The. Fuck.

She jolted to her feet as if to give her sense of power, but all her power felt lost when he was present. Her thoughts stumbled around her brain, trying to think of the first question to ask. Words remained jumbled and the last sound to come out of her mouth was:

"What is, you, did, scare, merlin!"

The smirk and mirth grew. Fucking bastard.

She exhaled forceful through her nose and rose to her full height.

"For you to be in the Ministry of Magic afterhours means that you have a pass that allows you to enter the facility. Seeing as I'm one of the personas that do weekly checks of security, your name is not present on any list to enter these grounds, without explicit permission. So, get out and see this as your first warning before I report you for breaking and entering."

He raised his eyebrows surprisingly and stood too gracefully. Heart racing, she thought she had a victory. Then, he began to make a stalking path around her wide desk, his pale fingers tracing the edges.

She refused to lose ground. She was not going to be tempted or scared by him. He rounded the wooden corner and came to close to her personal space. Leant back on the table, his silver eyes uncomfortably viewing her.

"Get out or…" she said. "I will call security."

She picked her wand up off her desk. A pale hand slammed hers back down, trapping her wand and the accompanied hand. A shot of fear surged through her.

"I told you, Granger," he pulled firmly at a stray curl at the base of her neck. "We need to talk."

"About what?" she huffed back, trying to wiggle her hand and the wand free. He leant in and a strong urge to run came over her, but a quick hand held her still at the waist.

"About us, about our future, "he whispered, the hairs on her neck stood on edge when he moved away, dragging his hand away to almost whisper on top of her black pencil skirt.

"You're mad," she told him, firmly. "We have nothing to talk about. So, stop this 'us' and 'our future'. It is a load of codswallop."

Darkness dulled his beaming silver eyes for a moment. Predator hunting prey. Her latex tightened in reflex. She had to leave. Now.

"Mad? Curious word to use," The pressure holding her hand down increased gradually. "We will use that word to describe my actions, shall we? Was I mad to become enthralled by you? Was I mad to try to ignore how I feel? Am I mad if I'm willing to pay the ultimate price for our destiny?"

The pain in her hand was throbbing, but she dared not to move it for the safety of her wand.

"Am I, Granger, am I mad?" That quick hand was back on her waist, making her twist her wrist to avoid his touch. "Am I, Hermione?"

Quicksilver eyes demanded her attention; she gazed at him with fearlessness.

"Yes," she replied fiercely.

To her surprise, a shadow of a real smile graced his mouth, too handsome for someone like him.

"So, be it."

He released her throbbing hand and she used a quick momentum to race away from him. She didn't make three steps when a sharp spell hit on her back. She fell to the floor, knocking papers and books in the downfall.

The last thing she saw was a dark shadow with a haloed light hovering around a platinum reflection crouch down beside her. _Angels shouldn't have such dark wings _ was the last lingering thought before the darkness over took her.

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	4. Chapter 4

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_song: dance with the devil by breaking benjamin  
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When she woke, she was lying on the ground on a thin woollen rug; her body still bearing her work clothes from the day before. Her eyes fluttered, once, twice before she tried to lift her groggy head. The movement taking longer than necessary.

She glanced at her surroundings, taking in the upper-class furniture in a large lounge room. Everything in the room was highlighted in a greyscale light, even her. Dark shadows clung to the ceiling and slithered down the pristine paint on the walls. She hastily searched for her wand, which could not be found.

Soon, her eyes found the only exit in the room; she cautiously eyed the moving shadows before rising to stand. The shadows began to weave over to her; her body tensing with panic to run. But the black phantom only gently touched her legs as it continued its path. A sense of chilliness prickled her skin before taking her first steps towards the closed mahogany door.

The door creak in a squeaky tone when she opened it, she was, now, standing in long, empty corridor. The greyish tones of colour and murky silhouettes were curling in every aspect that she saw in the house. Where was she?

She, tentatively, turned to the left and walked absently; trying to find a something familiar in her environment. She turned left when she reached another intersection and heard a murmuring voice echoing ahead of her. Her heart sped up with her pace as she followed the sound of that voice.

A whisper of a touch was felt on her shoulder; she glanced back to see the dark shadows dripping to shape a larger form. She froze; fear shaking in her veins. The murky shadows eventually moulded into a tall masculine figure that walked towards her. Quickly, she dashed around the next turn; her vision slimming to a narrow tunnel. The black phantom still chasing her through this unknown house.

Yanking the first door she saw open, she quickly ducked inside and closed it behind her. She found herself, in a magnificent library. She couldn't even stare at its wonder as Hermione flashed deeper into the room to hide behind a row of books.

Short and hot breaths panted out of her mouth, as the library door silently opened. The shady figure walked to the middle of the room, where a lone thick book laid on display, resting on a carved pedestal. Hermione could hear that voice again; its sound growing in decibels. The voice spat out words in Latin and distorted in pitch.

With a loud whoosh, the one silhouette spilt into several darting shadows. They curled and took flight towards the ceiling, forming a thundering storm. Lightening cracked in the room; thunder shook with a roar. Hermione was thrown to the floor with a sudden harsh breeze. Her fingers reached to grab a shelf; the wind was building up and pressuring her body to give in to the gale. She screamed as her small fingers let go of the sturdy shelf.

Her body flipped in the air and landed near the displayed book. An ache wheezed through her chest as she tried to catch her breath; objects around the library shuddered and gave in to the wind. Shelves toppled over, books fluttered in the air, pages dancing in the raging hurricane. But the space near the book remained still; the eye of the storm.

She climbed to her feet; her brown eyes fixing on the book. She couldn't believe it.

The book was covered with aged leather, corners curling from frequent usage and a faded spine. But the most shocking, was the bold and cursive 'M' stamped on the front cover. She swallowed the heavy lump in her throat. The chanting voice continued its building tune. A bright strike of lightening came from the intense clouds and pierced it; a shot of electricity bringing it to life. It sprang open; pages whipping from an invisible force.

She took a step forward when the paper stopped on a page; fine handwriting ran down the length of the page in Latin and faded pictures wept with crimson. Her brows creased to a frown as she began to translate the first line:

_'The bearer receiving the mark can only be of equal status of the giver; Half-blood or Pure-blood. If not, the bearer- '_

Her left arm felt like it was on fire. She gripped it quickly, searching for the cause of pain. Her unblemished skin revealed nothing as her arm continued to burn. The agony started from her fingers and trailed up her arm and towards her chest. Strokes of flames increasing in heat making her cry out. Wetness started dripping down her cheeks; the drips falling the colour of crimson on the grey floor. She wiped at her cheeks and found her other hand covered in blood.

Her cries reached a new fervour of panic as her golden orbs continued to weep a river of blood down her face. The harsh voice echoing loudly in her ears; her arm flared in pain once again, making her crumple to the ground to cradle it. The storm around her shook with her anguish. She only wished that it could stop as drops of her blood began staining her shirt. She couldn't stop the tears, the fire burning her arm alive. When the agony radiated through her chest to her heart, she threw her head back as her cries turned into a deafening scream. The roof cracked and blew off; releasing the hurricane from its cage.

The world around her quietened as blood clouded her vision and she passed out.

* * *

"Thank you for calling us," muffled a voice near her.

"It's no problem, Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley. My only concern was where I found her," replied the familiar voice of her secretary, Olivia Banks.

"Where did you find her?" Ron said, with concern.

"Over there, on the floor," replied Olivia. "It was like she just collapsed. I perform a quick health spell on her to check if she was hit by a spell, but it came up blank."

"Thanks, Olivia" Hermione heard Harry say. "We'll take it from here." Olivia's high heels clipped on her office floor and outside her work door. She heard someone shuffle closer to her; pieces of her curly hair were pushed back.

"Do you think it was him? After what she said to you yesterday?" Ron mumbled. She heard Harry sigh deeply.

"I..I don't know what to think. I mean, she has fallen asleep at work before," Harry said. "But, to fall asleep on the floor, that doesn't add up."

Hermione's body finally caught up to her mind's thoughts to wake up. Her eyes flicked open; Ron was kneeling on the floor, still brushing back her hair, Harry stood near her feet. Both boys straighten to attention when her eyes met theirs. It was like a replay in her dream; she forced her body to sit up, her mind groggy from the action. But, this time, her world remained in colour and there were no swooping shadows.

"Hey…Hermione, do you remember what happen last night?" asked Ron; a sweet gentle smile on his lips. "You secretary was given quite a scare. She found you on the floor this morning."

"It was Malfoy," she rasped out. Harry and Ron paled slightly at her words; she looked down at her feet, too afraid to see their reactions. "He was here. He wanted to talk with me, and I didn't want too. I tried to leave…and I think he stupefied me."

Hermione rushed out the words, unable to stop herself. The room was quiet, except for the ticking clock on her once-tidy desk. She chanced a look at Ron and Harry. Both shared looks of protectiveness and shock over her tale.

"So, he stupefied you and then…left? You don't remember anything else?" Harry walked towards the area where she fell, analysing her office floor like a crime scene. Ron moved to sit next to her on the plump couch and gently placed a hand on her back.

"I think so," Hermione's mind was foggy with the scenes of her dream. The pain lancing up her arm, blood dripping down her cheeks between her fingers. "I remember him, standing over me and then nothing, but I had the weirdest dream." Her voice flat and lifeless as she explained the strange dream. Her eyes wandered over her unblemished left arm, hoping to see a trace of the inferno flames that scorched her skin. The only thing odd was the shiny diamond ring with a thin carvings around the band that was on her left ring finger. _Odd, she didn't remember putting on a ring yesterday_.

Ron's hand on her back, swivelled in comforting circle after she finished her story. Ron and Harry made eye-contact once more and shared looks of confusion.

"I think, Mione, it might be good for you to take a few days off," Ron said, quietly. "You know relax at home; just for the rest of this week maybe." She met Ron's concerning gaze with her tired eyes.

"I can't. I have to finalise the plans for the ministry charity ball, that is happening this Friday," Hermione huffed out.

"Then, do your work at home," said Harry. "I agree with Ron. Take some time off, do work at home. I'll send an Auror to check on you, morning and night. Ron and I will look into Malfoy; he won't bother you anymore." Harry said this so fiercely that Hermione could also believe him, but she still remembered the look of possessiveness on Malfoy's face from the night before.

She consented to their plan; Harry and Ron helped her gather her things and followed her through the Floo Network to her quaint cottage. The boys gave her a strong hug and murmurs of seeing her soon, but then she was alone with her thoughts.

Her body folded lazily into her squishy futon; her head resting on the ledge. Her eyes looked at the ceiling with vacancy as thoughts in her mind muddle themselves, in a rush to understand everything that had happen in the last 12 hours.

Flashes of crimson invaded her sight, dark shadows whispering along her legs, a sense of panic crashing over her as she ran from the dark figure. Clenching her eyes shut, she tried to fight the on-coming images of the dream. She stood quickly to her feet; her body aching in ways she didn't expect, like the dream had been real.

She wondered to her bathroom and turned the shower facet to allow the heated warm water to steam. Seeing her reflection in the mirror, she could see her complexion was slightly pale and the whites of her eyes were flickered with red. She reached up to pull up her black hair tie out when she saw that shimmering ring on her finger again.

She looked at it once again, not remembering when she put it on. She sighed loudly; everything was a blur lately. Closing her right hand over the ring, she tugged it off her hand; but the silver ring stuck. Her brows furrowed together as she tried again but tugging harder. The ring remained where it was. She growled in frustration; spinning the shower facets off and marched to the kitchen. Using a butter knife, she attempted to lever the ring off her finger and to her surprise, the knife broke. She screeched and threw the broken knife to the ground; slamming her hands on the marble kitchen counter.

Malfoy; the bloody git. It had to be him.

She was going to get this ring off if it was the last thing she did.

* * *

A week can fly by too quickly.

Hermione had completed finalising the ministry charity ball on day one. The rest of her days were consumed with removing this insufferable ring. She didn't want any part of him clinging to her, like sick vermin making a nest in her home. No way was this ring staying on.

From writing a letter to the Professor McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts, she was able to access their Hogwarts library through her post. She requested several books from their collection and all the books were delivered to her within a few hours. But even after, endless hours of reading and note-taking, the only she managed to scrounge together that this piece of jewellery was most likely a family heirloom that is layered with protective spells. _Fuck. _The ring also could only be removed by the person who put it on. _Double fuck. _

By the time she was getting ready for the charity, her hair had already puffed into a tangled mess, which made it extremely difficult to tame. Eventually, she was able to tame her hair into a plait and pinned it to wrap around her head, like crown. She applied enough make-up to cover her tiredness and pressed a pink lip gloss over her lips.

Pulling her light blue gown from her closet, she shimmered the soft silk over her underwear and zipped the strapless dress to a close. She gave herself one last long in the floor-length mirror, before she slipped her feet in black heels and grabbed her sequined purse before she apparated to the Ministry entrance. Hermione was only thirty minutes late to the ball when she walked through the entrance but could already see it in full swing.

The jazz band she requested were playing a low-tempo song to entrance couples to slow dance. Hired workers were floating through the crowd, supplying flutes of champagne and nibbles to last the evening. Hermione smiled at several co-workers before approaching Olivia near the edge of the dancefloor.

"Hermione! You look radiant!" Olivia gave her a quick hug. "This party is a hit. We are going to see the money roll tonight." Olivia took a long sip of champagne; Hermione could only smile at her antics.

"I'm glad it is already going well. Have you seen Jeremy?" Hermione looked in the bustling crowd for her boss. Her hand was nudged by a flute when Olivia managed to acquire a round of drinks.

"Yeah," Olivia sighed in annoyance. "He's over there with Malcom." Malcom Tibu, a Romanian transfer that worked in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes; was overly familiar with Hermione on too many work occasions. She thought Cormac was bad, but Malcom never gave up. "I'm pretty sure you'll be asked to date number 46 this year." Hermione giggled lightly as she took her first sip of the cool liquid.

"I better go then and get it over with," Hermione zigged-zagged her way through the crowd as she approached Jeremy and Malcom. However, they weren't alone; another figure stood next to them. She knew that silhouette; it had haunted her nightmares the last few nights. Draco Malfoy stood next to her boss, looking devilishly handsome in his fitted black suit. His blonde hair was still in a disarray that complimenting his sharp features. Her steps slowed but continued to reach them. Her golden eyes widening in shock as she took him in; he looked like he didn't have a care in the world. He looked at her, eyes roaming her dress that clung to her body and smirked.

"Why, Hermione, you look lovely," complimented Malcom, stepping closer to her to obtain her attention.

"Why the bloody hell are you here?" Hermione said with scorn, before she could stop herself.

"Ms. Granger!" scolded Jeremy, outraged by her rude behaviour. Malfoy simply raised one brow at her as he drank from his flute. "Mr. Malfoy is here to sponsor certain ministry departments."

"Sponsor?" Hermione drawled out.

"Jeremy! It's been too long!" Hermione was suddenly elbowed by an eager Daphne Greengrass; her champagne flute splashed to its glass edges dangerous, almost spilling on her blue gown. Daphne wore a vibrant purple gown that certainly boosted areas to catch the eye. Malcom was currently eyeing off the chest that was shoved near him. Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh my! Is that you, Draco? I haven't seen you since my mother tried to throw a matchmaking ball for me."

Daphne placed herself beside Malfoy and was doing everything she could to catch Malfoy's attention. Hermione rolled her eyes again; his eyes never left her as she continued to avoid his gaze. Come on, she could play this game; her department could certainly benefit from more sponsors.

"As one of the lead workers in the Department of Magical Games and Sports, Quidditch is one of main sources of international economy," Daphne said enthusiastically, trying to impress Malfoy. "I've always believed that the sponsor could definitely influence our style of advertising. Have you ever considered modelling, Draco?"

"Now, Daphne, if you ever needed to reach an international market; I know a few people in Romanian who would very interested in international economy," Malcom joked back. Daphne giggled loudly, swatting Malcom on his arm while laying a hand on Malfoy's arm. Hermione felt like she was going to be sick. She felt, rather than saw Malfoy's eyes burning a hole in her. He was still awfully quiet; she quickly chugged her drink and excused herself to the bathroom.

In a small dark alcove near the bathroom, Hermione hid herself away from the crowd. She couldn't take it anymore. If she stayed there any longer, she would take out her wand and curse those stupid morons into oblivion, starting with that irritating creature with stony eyes, then that little over fervent bint clawing at him. Was she jealous? No, it had just been a long week of unneeded conversations.

"Ah, Hermione, there you are!" Malcom's annoying voice sounded near her. He joined her in the small alcove. "You left in quite a hurry just then. You shouldn't get too upset. Your work is much better than Daphne's." He placed a hand on her left forearm, his face relaxing to an innocent smile.

"Thank you, Malcom. I appreciate it." She went to pull her arm from his grip, when he grasped it more firmly with two hands. Her vine wood wand was tucked away in her purse.

"No, I mean it. Your work is so much better than hers, or anyone's. I will do anything to prove this." Malcom swooped in, closely to her face and tried to line his lips with her reluctant ones. She tried to pull away further, but the grip on her arm tightened and held true.

She didn't even feel the brush of his slimy lips when a hot flame flared from her ring to her chest. She cried out and turned away from him, clutching the hand close to her chest. She didn't even hear Malcom's voice as she raced into the bathroom to shove her hand under the cool running water. The burning sensation had stopped, like it had arrived, quick and hot. Those old family enchantments were probably more set to protect partners from infidelity.

"Now, you know," Malfoy stood behind her. She shrieked and forced the tap turn off. His intense eyes staring at her.

"Get out. If you didn't see, this is the ladies bathroom." He ignored her and place a hand on her shoulder and turned her to face him. His hips pinned her body against the counter; he grasped her left hand in his, surprisingly, gently hands.

"You know now, what will happen when you are touched that way by someone else," He never left go of her hand. He was massaging it lightly with his thumb; his flesh felt cool against hers. "You are mine, Granger. No one can have you, but me." He pressed his lips firmly on her palm; she felt herself tremble.

"I'm not a thing. You can't own me." She felt the rage bubble in her; she grabbed her wand, aiming it at his chest. "I don't know what you're up to, but you have to stop right now." Her voice shook with anger and irritation. Her emotions were getting the best of her, so she was letting it all out. "You can start with removing that stupid ring, right now."

He merely stood there, unfazed.

"Now, Malfoy!" She poked her wand at his chest to throw him. He didn't even wince.

"You think this will stop me?" he asked in bored voice as one cold hand brushed against her cheek. She opened her mouth to reply when he, suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her roughly against the tiled bathroom wall. One of his hands slammed loudly near her head, making her jump and drop her wand. She swallowed the sense of panic that started to sink in.

The hand hanging limply at his side was clenched in a tight fist. She saw his eyes flashed dangerously.

"I've paid the price, Granger for our future. Nothing is going to stop you for being mine." His voice shook with anger as well. Panic was soon replaced by fear; his limp hand came up and yank her hair in his hand. She whimpered at the tug of her scalp and felt his warm breath touch her face.

And then, he crashed his lips into hers before she could try to protest. He kissed her with so much passion, fury and lust; it was punishing. He seized his bottom lip with his teeth and bit hard, making her whimper faintly, allowing him to invade her mouth. His tongue forced its way into her mouth and she moaned, trying to pull away.

No, he won't let her; he clutched her hair more tightly preventing any escape. He was consuming her, devouring her, forcing her to kiss him back… She didn't know exactly when it happened, but her tongue was moving with his. She kissed him back and didn't care. His mouth was warm and sweet as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders to deepen the kiss. She let him explore her mouth, her body, her hair. She almost forgot to breathe…

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	5. Chapter 5

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_song: touch it by ariana grande. __colours (acoustic) by halsey._

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A devouring devotion bloomed through her. Greedy hands traced her figure. She moaned in his ear when strong hips pushed her more into the tiled wall. She couldn't stop herself. Her hands grasping and reaching for him; remembering a haunted memory. He bit lightly on her ear with a growl as he lifted her leg to wrap around his hip bringing them closer. She was too wrapped up in his mouth to notice her aching core until he greeted his with hers. Pleasure crashed through her, shaking her leg in its heel.

"Yes," he panted in her ear before working her neck with his mouth. Hips rocking together in an animalistic motion. Her senses were overloaded of him, his distinct scent, his gravelling sounds, his heated touch. Protesting escape her mind, she wanted to revel in this nirvana. His nirvana that had a choking grip on her.

A door creaked opened. "Oh, sorry for the intrusion!" called an unknown female voice, snapping her to her senses. Her hands that once were clawing him closer shoved him away. Panted breaths escape her, her chest rising in frantic movements. She trembled in shock as if she couldn't believe what had happened. Her fearful gaze met his. Malfoy stared at her in hunger, eyes of molten silver.

She looked positively _fucking_ delicious when the sense of dread seeped into her sepia eyes. His lips curled in a smirk as she slid across the wall to the bathroom exit. He let her go. Her dainty footsteps increasing their pace in her flee. Predators always enjoy a game of chase.

* * *

Make no mistake, Hermione Granger, proud member of house Gryffindor, fled the charity ball before someone could say 'Quidditch'. She flooed back to her little cottage. Her mind replaying the incident over and over. Her body moving through the automatic motions of undressing and getting ready for bed. She sat in front of vanity, scrubbing her make-up off and discovered a small hickey in the junction of her neck.

_"Nothing is going to stop you from being mine,"_ flashed through her mind as her dainty fingers traced the bruised skin. Draco Malfoy cementing his body on top of his, pale hands holding her body captured. Her senses fell into his strength and got taken away by the heated hurricane. Wet feathered lips dragging across her collarbone.

She slammed her fist on her wooden vanity countertop. Her fists clenching and unclenching in her inner distraught. She couldn't believe her actions. She should have stood stronger, even slam him across his egotistic face. Her fingers released themselves from their own death trap and snatched her wand. She performed a quick healing charm to clear the distressing mark from her neck. She wandered over to her bed and collapsed on the mountain of pillows. A silent _meow _came from her floor, before Crookshanks jumped next to her on the bed.

Her hand reached for her pet and scratched behind his ear. She could not fall for Malfoy's tricks again. She absently stared at the diamond ring still heavy on her left ring finger. She would find a way to get this contraption off her. She could not fall for his tricks again. Before she knew it, she had fallen asleep and woke to a bright Saturday morning, she grunted at the offensive light and cocooned herself in a bundle of warmth and darkness. She was just about to fall asleep when she felt a hand delicately ran their fingers in her hair. She sat up with a start, summoning her wand to her hand.

She pointed her wand around the empty room. The morning light slowly filling the room with long shadows, reminding her of her nightmare. She wet her lips in anticipation for shadows to break away and comb the room. Her heart lodged in her throat with its loud thumping beats. She tried to calm her nerves and poke her head into her bathroom. Also, empty.

_"Homenum Revelio,"_ she whispered. Her wand flared with the spell, but didn't detect anyone in her home. She silently roamed her house for anything out of the ordinary. Crookshanks yowled from his food bowl when she entered the lightening kitchen. She felt that she was being watched. The 'constant vigilance' booming in her head. She breathed out a long breath and leaned on the counter. She was being stupid, maybe losing her mind. She knew her wards; they were practically better than the Ministry's.

Yet, she couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Her eyes danced around her kitchen before landing on the clock, which read twenty past twelve. She huffed; she was late to the Weasley's brunch. Reaching into the mahogany cabinet and grabbed Crookshanks food, she poured some into his bowl before returning it back. She made her way to the bedroom and slipped into some casual clothes. Grabbing her shoulder bag, she went to the fireplace to flooed herself to the Weasley's. Stepping out into an empty living room, she threw her heavy bag onto a nearby rocking chair.

"Hello?" she called out, wandering towards the steaming kitchen.

"Out here, Hermione!" responded a male voice from their yard before she followed the sound out to the yard. The Weasley's had assembled a large long table through various tables. Delicious dishes and plates were spread across the length. The clan called out a greeting to her as she spotted Harry and Ginny sitting near the far end of the table next to Ron and Lavender, who was bouncing a red-headed baby in her lap.

"Hermione, glad you could finally make it," She was engulfed in a hug from George; her body flinched at his touch. She was expecting to feel a hot flame shoot through her from the ring, but nothing happened. "We thought you were hung over from the ball last night."

"No, it's just been a tiring week, that's all," she responded back. "Hi Angelina!" Angelina walked behind George wrapping an arm around his waist.

"Hi Hermione, work been okay?" questioned Angelina. "Daphne not giving you too much trouble?" Angelina played for the Lancashire Quidditch team and had dealt with Daphne on many occasions. Greengrass had a reputation wanting too much and seducing her way to get what she wants. Angelina got pushed back to the bench last season, because her beauty didn't reap in enough male attention, but when the team lost their next games, it was quickly changed.

"You know what Greengrass is like. She was getting in everyone's faces last night," Hermione gestured towards her chest, making Angelina and George laugh.

"Hey hey, no more work talk until you get some meat on those bones", Mrs Weasley gestured for Hermione to sit down. She smiled at her mothering techniques and sat down near Harry, Ginny, Ron, Lavender and their baby, Dahlia.

"How's Dahlia been this week, Lavender?" she enquired. Lavender and Ron confirmed their relationship after the Battle of Hogwarts and soon, eloped after in early June. The couple wanted to create happier memories for their lives, and they got it. Dahlia was born late February with a head-full of ginger hair.

"She's bit better this week. She has been sleeping all morning but is ravenous all afternoon. My poor breasts are getting a bit tender," Lavender responded. "Do you want to hold her for a bit?" Hermione nodded and took Dahlia to cradle the baby against her chest. She began cooing and ahhing at the newborn, making Dahlia look out her with slight amusement. Dahlia's tiny fingers reached out to grab loose hair and the baby's mouth began opening and closing near Hermione's chest.

"Really, Dahlia? Hungry already?" Lavender huffed and stood up, taking the baby with her inside.

"She's definitely your daughter, Ron," quipped Ginny. "Always hungry…" Harry, Ron and Hermione laughed. Harry nodded at Hermione at get her attention.

"What happened to you last night? You usually say goodbye before leaving?" Ron and Harry's face becoming a bit more serious. The boys knew who else was there last night and she knew what they were asking. She gnawed at her lips in whether she should relay the truth.

"I-I-ummm-" she started before clearing her throat. Other boisterous voices continuing their coversations. "Remember the dream that I told you about?" Ginny nodded along with the boys. "In my dream, I had pain coming from my finger. This finger." She showed her left hand that was decorated by the shiny silver ring. Ginny let out a low whistle and pulled her hand closer to examine the jewel. Harry leaned closer as well, peering over Ginny's shoulder. "I believe Malfoy put it on me. It's enchanted; I can't take it off. Only he can."

"Are you sure it can't be removed another way?" Harry said seriously. Hermione snatched her hand back before any one attempted to remove it. The pain the ring gave her last night still burned in her memory.

"The only other way is that he dies," she replied back stiffly. Eyebrows on everyone's faces frowned further. "Exactly, I'm sure I can find something with further research. I've wrote to Professor McGonagall and received several books. I'll look at them again tomorrow."

"Let us know if you need anything," said Ron. "First thing, Monday morning, Harry and I will do another search on him. We'll find a way to leave you alone." Ron said everything so confidently that she wanted to believe in him so much, but memories of his lips crashing on hers consuming everything that she owned of herself, burnt to the seems for him. A cold dormant heart awoken by him. Her nirvana; her stomach sunk and heart thundered with hope and despair.

* * *

"This should cover our next steps in our marketing for our department," she spoke loudly and clearly to her team as her presentation came to a close. "Thanks to the charity ball last Friday, the donated funds we received will help us push through the next phase. Come one month from now, the ministries board of directors will be wanting to listen to us." A warm sound of applause came from her team; she smiled brightly at them.

She felt confidence radiating off her. She arrived this morning to an excited Olivia, who couldn't wait to show her the funds donated to her personal department. This was exactly what they needed. Her department specialised in Muggle Relations and Magical Creatures. Time spent with Lupin and Hagrid taught her how unfair the system could be. Her team and herself pushed for laws to change in the name of equality. She rushed a last minute meeting for the afternoon and locked herself in her office to devise a new plan for them.

"Hermione, I just caught wind of your department's sponsorship," Malcom sauntered into the room with a cocky smile towards her as she collected her papers. "You must be incredibly proud of your efforts last Friday." She could only give him a tight smile, eager to be rid of his company.

"My department and I are looking forward to the changes to come," she replied smartly and began walking to office. To her disappointment, Malcom followed.

"I had to be last minute, Hermione, but I was wondering if I could have a quick word with you," Malcom drawled, displaying what he hoped a charming smile. "The Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes could work with yours, quite fluidly if things get a bit heated with the Magical Creatures."

"I'm free for a quick five minute chat, Malcom" she reluctantly said, rounding around her wooden desk; placing her papers in a neat pile. Looking up, Malcom was leering to close over her desk; she countered his move by leaning back further into her chair. His overpowering cologne assaulted her nose.

"Five minutes? That should be enough to time for a bloke like me," Malcom chuffed at his own joke and followed her steps around the desk. Her mind flashed back to Malfoy's actions last Monday. Cool calculated steps, amusing silver eyes. Her desk groaned when Malcom sat its edge. She swallowed a lump in her throat and met his dark brown eyes. "You see, the thing is Hermione I've been a patient man. You've been sending me signals for a long time and I'm done waiting. I think we should be more." His hand reached over to cup her face; she slapped his hand away before it could inch any closer.

"I don't know where you are getting this absurd idea, Malcom," Anger rising in her tone. "I have never intentionally sent you any signal. Our relationship is purely professional." She shoved past him and began walking towards her closed office door. "I think it's time for you to leave."

"Daphne was right about you," he said with some disappointment.

"Excuse me?" She blanched back at him before grabbing the door handle. He stood in front of her desk with a wand clench tightly in hand. Her eyes flicked to her bag behind her chair, which held hers.

"You're nothing, but a mudblood cunt that doesn't know her place," Malcom's voice yelled loudly, dropping all friendliness that in tone before. "You should know your place and when I say, we have something more. You better drop to your knees and beg for mercy." His face contorted in bestial rage.

"Imperio!" he shouted. Hermione dived for her couch, the spell wisping in the air of where she once stood. _Shit…she needed her wand._ She stood once more, readying to tackle him to reach her bag.

"Crucio" he called out with hatred. She dropped to her knees; her body shaking with the spell. Screams escape her mouth; her mind flickering to the past and present. She remembered what this felt like on the cold marble floor of the Malfoy Manor. The spell ended; her golden eyes expected to see Bellatrix Lestrange leaning over her with yellowing crooked teeth. Malcom grabbed her by the jaw; her bones aching in his squeezing grip.

"I said, beg," He squeeze her jaw harder; she released a mouthful of spit into his face and tried to crawl her desk. Muscles electrified from the spell were clumsy. Malcom kicked her in the stomach; a gasp of air escaping her mouth. She cradled her ribs with her hands as he smacked her across the face. Her head snapped back and she saw white stars.

"I said, beg! Crucio!" Unbearable agonizing pain pulled her body again into its drowning depths. Her skull burned like it was about to break. Sensitive ribs sizzled in pain as if they began breaking out through her skin. Her voice turned hoarse from her screams; it was unrecognisable when the spell ended once more. A dark chuckle sounded from his lips; steps silently cushioned on her office carpet.

"I'll be nicer next time. Impe—" Malcom's wand changed direction when her fireplace flamed with light. She couldn't feel any part of her body anymore. Her reflexes shot, making it near impossible to turn her head at the new arrival. She rolled her head to the side with a painful groan. Malcom's body flew across the room, hurtling into one of her bookshelves.

The fireplace was lit brightly, enabling her to see anything else. She stared at it blankly, for Merlin knows how long. A blurry movement moved toward her, leaning over her crippled form. A gentle affectionate touch held her; then she knew who it was. She knew those familiar gentle caresses.

"Granger-Fuck- Hold on."

The pain thumping in her body dulling away a little. He was tending to her wounds. Her eyes fluttered in pain when he picked her up. She tried to stay conscious. Malcom stirred from the collapsed bookcase. Hermione tried to fight her slipping conscious more, knowing Malcom wasn't safe anymore.

"Don't-"

A green light flashed from the tip of his hawthorn wand.

Her mind spiralled in and out of consciousness as he flooed them away. Her brain reeling from the displayed of cruelty, of that kind of darkness. It was something she wanted to erase from her memory. Her thoughts running away from the opportunity of awakening; digging deeper into a dream state full of flickering shadows that caressed her, comforting her, cradling her. But it didn't last long enough, soon she woke on leather couch, tucked in by a heavy blanket. She moves her fingers and toes before sketching out. Her body did not shudder with any discomfort.

With her palms, she slowly sat up and took in surroundings. It was all vaguely familiar. Aristocratic furniture, chandeliers dripping from the slipping, priceless art decorating the walls. It clicked. She had only seen this room in her strange room and now, it was shoved in her face in screaming colour. She scurried out of the large duvet; the closed mahogany door creaked in a squeaky tone when opened.

She stumbled onto her feet when he walked in. Her legs staggering a little with rapid movement. He walked towards her, calmly, carrying a tray. She took in its items; steaming pot and two cups. She cleared her throat. She needed to leave immediately.

"I should go," she let out with a shaking breath. She needed to go. She needed to get away from him. She was as scared as a cornered mouse.

"Sit," he said bluntly. His face cold when she opened her mouth to rebut. Instead, she sat down slowly, clutching the edge of the blanket. She didn't even know where her wand was. He poured her a cup of tea and handed it to her. She clung to it desperately; the saucer rattled by the teacup. He remained calm pouring his own cup and blowing out the curling steam. She couldn't take it much longer. She climbed to her feet.

"I must go," she discarded the tea on the tray and walked towards the mahogany door.

"Don't you want your wand?" he called out; hand stilling on the cool handle, a rustle of clothing when he reached her. Warm breaths tickling her neck; she couldn't face him. "It will be hard to do anything without your wand." She could almost imagine his smirk on forbidden lips.

"I'd rather do that than stay in a room with a murderer," she retorted, angry shaking her frame.

"Murderer?" He hummed under his breath; a finger traced her shoulders. "What I did, I did for you." She turned, smacking his hand away from her. Silver eyes alight with a fire.

"I did not ask for your help," she fumed at him. A hand slammed on the door, next to her head. The other grip her throat, hard enough to push her back into the door, hard enough to know he was fighting for control.

"I did it because he was going to hurt you or worse," he growled out angrily. "I saw it in his eyes. The way he looked at you…I will do whatever to keep you safe and if it means spilling unworthy blood, I will." Her breaths came out harshly. She refused to meet his cold steel eyes; it was not okay to talk about…killing someone. His lips brushed against hers; water-brimmed golden eyes looked into his.

"I don't want anyone to take you away from me," he breathed out, gently. The thumb on her throat rubbing her thundering pulse.

"I'm not yours, Malfoy," she thundered out in frustration. He moved his hands away and released a belly laugh. It was musical, it was majestic; she could be enchanted by the unfamiliar sound. Oh, she hated him. He wiped the corner of his eyes, before tightly grasping her left hand. His fingers tracing the silver band trapped on her ring finger.

"This ensures that you are. I'm not taking it off soon either," Malfoy was fixated on the gleaming band that glistened in the light. "I thought it gave you enough protection. I am going to have to finish it to guarantee your safety."

"Finish what, Malfoy?" She tried snatching her hand back, but his grip tightened; her hand and heart trapped in his darkening embrace.

"The marriage ritual, Granger."

He pulled a platinum knife out from behind his back that gleamed brightly with his growing smirk.

.

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End file.
